


Near Miss

by C130



Category: Cars (Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Jets, Loss of separation, Motion Sickness, Powerlines, Turbulents, crashes, near miss, the wall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C130/pseuds/C130
Summary: Five times that the Piston Peak Team were nearly taken out and one time they were not so lucky. Story posted completed.1. Cabbie Vs Fighter Jets2. Windlifter Vs Powerlines3. Dusty Vs Wake Turbulants4. Dipper Vs Thin Ice5. Blade Vs Stuck Hoist6. Waterbomber Vs Solid Core Cloud





	1. Cabbie Vs Fighter Jets

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, welcome to near miss. I do not own Planes, but I have experience loss of separation in aircraft of three separate occasions. If possible I would like to keep all future near miss experiences completely fictional. As always this story has been betaed by theolaterose99.

Most of the time Chief Blade Ranger made the best of the situation he had been handed. Then there were days when he realized just how badly Cad Spinner had royally screwed them over by slashing their budget. Today, Blade was dealing with the latter. If they would have still had the funds to keep a lead plane, birddog, or spotter on the team a today's crisis would have been avoided. Instead, they had been literally feet away from losing the entire smokejumping team and their transport, and everyone who had witnessed the incident was still trying to come off the adrenal high.

The run had started normally enough. It was a small fire caused by sparks from truck who had accidently dragged a chain. It had been quickly reported and the air attack team had arrived on site when the fire was still less than three acres. Blade had immediately worked with Windlifter and Dipper to box the fire in with retardant. The three tankers were preparing to turn back to base to reload and give Cabbie a little bit more space to drop the jumpers in narrow canyon, when everything hit the fan.

"There is a meadow to the on the east side of the road that looks like it is…Oh, Slag!"

Blade looked up in time to see Cabbie pull at least a 60 degree bank to avoid a military jet that was streaking up the canyon a low elevation and high rate of speed. Even with the invasive action it looked like the cargo plane wasn't going to be able to get out of the way of the of the other aircraft in time, but then Cabbie dived downward in a high-G barrel roll that would have shredded the control surfaces of a lesser cargo plane. From the Attack Chief's angle of view he could swear that C119 scrapped his canopy on the tree tops on the low point of the maneuver, but the old plane's engines screamed at full power and he was able to shakily gain altitude.

Before anyone one else could talk Cabbie tried to radio base. "Patch make sure the entire runway is clear. I am coming in hot and heavy."

"Cabbie do you need to divert to the Lodge?" Blade asked with icy seriousness coming along side eyeing the plane for possible damage.

"Once we get back on the tarmac, we are going to be staying there for a while." Cabbie was doing a remarkable job of keeping his voice steady, but it was clear that the old warplane was pretty shaken up. "If I am going to be grounded I would much rather be able to sulk in my own hanger instead of being forced to sit on the apron of the Lodge runway until I am cleared to fly again."

"Do you need Windlifter to follow you?"

"No we are…" Cabbie started before getting interrupted by the scream of a second fighter jet flying between the cargo plane and the ground. It took a few long moments for the C119 to stabilize himself again in the sky, then with strained precision Cabbie spoke. "By the Peugeot, get the tail numbers on those two planes, cause I need to have a  _conversation_  with their CO."

* * *

According to the Transportation Safety Management Team (TSMT) regulations any commercial passenger or cargo aircraft was required to be able to pull into a 50 degree bank while fully loaded. Cabbie was required to prove that he was up to this challenge every spring during his preseason check ride. What the cargo plane realized when he had to pull the maneuver in real life, was a set of inanimate weights strapped securely in his cargo hull behaved completely different from a set of five, very lively smokejumpers.

Cabbie had just managed to slam his aft door shut when he spotted the F-16 coming straight for him in his peripheral vision. Then training took over. Part of him heard all five of the little ground pounders squawk unhappily when suddenly swung hard to starboard and cries of panic when he had pulled into a dive. The other part of him was trying to keep from graying out has he pulled just shy of 4 Gs.

For a few long moments Cabbie couldn't help but wonder if he had exchanged a fiery death in the air for a fiery death nose diving into the ground, but the weight of his jumpers played in his favor. Their momentum gave him just enough energy to pop out of the bottom of the barrel role. He had been close enough to the ground to damage his port fin and clip both radio wires, but they were going to live and that is what really mattered.

As the C119 began to claw his way back up to a safe altitude, he felt the first sloshing feeling and he had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing. No wonder his passengers had gotten so quiet back there. There was more sloshing and Cabbie had begun the job of convincing everyone that he was perfectly capable of making it back to base. The sloshing sensation only increased when he jerked violently when the second plane passed directly beneath him and the warbird had a sinking feeling what Maru was going to find when he finally popped the hatch.

By the time Cabbie's tires hit the tarmac, the C119 had to consciously prevent his landing gear from buckling under him on impact. Ignoring the normal traffic patterns, Cabbie made a beeline straight to the Maintenance Hanger, backed his tail up the building and popped his back door right at Maru's wheels.

"Chrysler!" Maru choked out. "Next time some warning would be nice." It took a few moments for Cabbie to smell the thing that needed warning. The stench of five regurgitated breakfasts that were now painted across the skin of all five smokejumpers, as well as, Cabbies internal bulkheads was thick. Cabbie's already unsettled tanks rolled uncomfortably.

"Maru…" Cabbie whispered trying to breathe through the nausea.

"Okay, anyone leaking or have'n drive train issues?" The smokejumpers all made little sounds of discomfort. In Pinecone's case, the poor thing, it was a set of whimpers between the dry heaves. "I will take that as a no then. Let's get you kids out of there."

It took a good 15 minutes to slide everyone out of the mess. As they came out Maru gave them a quick look over. Dynamite and Drip appeared to have taken the bulk of the physical damage and were told to go sit out on the tarmac for a moment. Avalanche, Blackout, and Pinecone were considered to be intact enough to go hit the power washer before Maru started to inspect their dings.

"Maru…" Cabbie tried again, but the mechanic was too busy grabbing a hose to hear.

The cold water seemed to help knock the senses back into Drip and Dynamite, though Cabbie suspected that the later probably had a concussion. Her eyes were just a little bit too unfocused and her responses were sluggish. Drip on the other hand was bouncing back nicely. By the time he was clean he was already bouncing on his treads and asking when Cabbie was going to take them on a barrel roll. Maru gave him a good spray where Pinecone had gouged his fender for good measure ushering both ground pounders into the hanger.

"Maru..." Cabbie said with a greater level of urgency tried to take deep breaths through his teeth.

"What?" The Maru finally rolled around to find out what the C-119 needed, but a bit too late. It really wasn't polite to projectile vomit all over your mechanic, but at this point Cabbie too nauseous to care.

* * *

Blade knew that he was about to be catapulted into paperwork hell the moment that Patch had transferred all of her dispatch duties to the lodge tower. The Attacks Chief's stress level continued to increase when Cabbie failed to respond when Blade ping his private channel. After a few long minutes of not having any bloody clue what was going on and whether or not it was wise to have the tankers head back to base take on another load of retardant, Blade paged Maru.

The mechanic responded after what felt like a painfully long time.  _"You better be calling to tell me that one of you have won the lottery and you are about to higher me a full staff, because if you are calling me to tell me that one of you bozos have injured yourself my tines are full!"_

"I am just checking up on the team."

" _We are…"_  Maru, then clearly got distracted by the mess that was rapidly developing around him.  _"Come on Cabbie, don't do this to me! Patch you were suppose to keep an eye on him and Dynamite keep your eyes open. I know your head hurts sweetheart, but I can't give you anything until we determine just how bad your concussion is."_ As quickly as Maru got sidetracked he was back.  _"Sorry, Chief, where were we."_

"I was just checking in on the team and trying to figure out it was okay for Windylifter, Dipper, and I to head back to base to tank up on more retardant."

" _You guys are going to be pulling off the lake for the next bit."_  The mechanic was clearly frustrated by his current situation.  _"Drip, I needed the medication box a good 10 minutes ago!"_

"And how are the team?" Blade was starting to get a bit worried about Maru wasn't saying. The fact he had pulled Patch in the middle of an active fire situation meant the mechanic had found himself on the deep end.

" _Ask me in 30 minutes. Now I believe you have a fire to put out and I have a transport load of very shaken but not stirred smokejumpers to deal with so if you are done…"_

"Understood. I will check in with you later. In the mean time we will pull water off the lake." Blade let his base's mechanic turn his attention to whatever chaos that he was currently fighting, while he turned his to the rest of the Air Attack Team. "Well Muddroppers, as you just heard Maru has is tines busy taking care of the jump team. We are going to have to trust him with that. In the mean time we have a fire to deal with. We don't have a ground team to help us with this one so we are going to have to surround and drowned. Windlifter, Dipper, I want you two pull water off of Anchor Lake and keep dumping until you are sure it is dead. If it starts getting out of hand, radio me immediately."

"Where are you going?" Dipper asked, as she continued swinging through the slow figure eights of her holding pattern.

"I am going to go chase down those two planes, cause we are going to press charges."

* * *

Perhaps Patch shouldn't have been giggling, but you did have to admit the scene had been ridiculously funny. Especially from the dispatcher's vantage point perched high above the chaos. Maru on the other hand had clearly been less amused by the fact that a 40 ton cargo plane had emptied his tanks across him. To his credit, Maru did motion for her to come down from the tower before he stopped off to the power washer.

The mechanic didn't allow himself much more than a quick spray. In fact he was out of the wash before Patch had successfully transferred her duties to the tower at the lodge. When she finally rolled, up Maru was already tines deep in Dynamites' engine.

"He," Maru motioned towards the C-119 dry heaving on the tarmac without even looking up, "is all yours. Drip's going to get the medication box. I would suggest you start with dosing him with one of the antinauseants as soon as the meds are here."

"Roger, that." Patch gave her fellow tug a mock salute and turned her attention to the largest member of the air attack team. Cabbie was, well, he was a mess. He smelled terrible, his cargo area and much of his nose was covered with the combined vomit of six motion sick vehicles, but it was the strange tilt that the plane was holding his wings that really caught Patch's attention. She scanned his body looking for the cause. His landing gear looked good, the damage to one of his tail fins shouldn't have caused the big planes lack of balance, and then she landed on the cause. Cabbie was missing his radio wires.

"You have vertigo don't you?" Patch asked, Cabbie just gave her a glare that screamed 'ya think' while keeping his mouth clamped tightly shut. "Okay, okay, sorry I asked. Let's get you attached back to an antenna so your navigation system knows where you are."

Patch turned back towards the hanger to try to find some wire, only to discover that apparently Cabbie's tanks weren't completely empty.

* * *

For the second time that day, Blade was pretty much ready to dump Cad off the nearest cliff.

"I still don't understand why if you insist on reporting this you can't just do it through the anonymous reporting thing?" Cad rolled his eyes at the Air Attack Chief.

"There were injuries." Blade glared in return.

"But not to the guests, and really, if one of your firefighters got a little bit bent out of shape because they got stuck in some turbots, or whatever you call them, then I think it is a question of bad flying on your guys end and there isn't any reason to bring in any officials into this." Cad waved a tire as though the near miss that Cabbie had experience earlier that afternoon was something as minor as a fender bender in a parking lot, instead of one where only the warplane's precision flying had prevented lives from ending in sudden flames.

"The paperwork will be filed, as per the law. And if you are not willing to help track down the tourist that injured and nearly killed my entire smokejumping team, I will do so myself."

Blade could hear Cad try to make another argument, but the helicopter wasn't going to stick around to listen. He had already spun up his router and flew into the darkening sky. The chief had been away from the base too long and he was worried about the extent of damage that he was going to find when he finally arrived back to base.

Coming up the final valley, he found the base to be frighteningly still. The only movement came from Dipper who was using a hose to try to clean up a frighteningly large puddle of engine fluids spread across the tarmac and mechanic's hanger. Off to one side of the mess, the air attack base's two tugs were slouched clinging cans of midgrade oil as though they were lifelines. Coming in for a landing the only thing that Blade could do was pray that with that much fluid on the pavement no one had bled out.

"Maru, report!" The Chief barked as his router's spun down.

"The jumpers have been mostly put back together, though I have assigned Windy to keep an eye on Dynamite. She got a nasty concussion that we will be watching for the next 48 hours. Other then the concussion, everything else could be taken care of with some application of pain medication, ginger tea, and a whole lot of solder. I think that the lot of them have all racked out in their hanger." Maru then motioned towards the large, aircraft still parked outside maintenance hanger. "Cabbie, on the other hand is going to be grounded for at least the next week."

"What is wrong?" Blade asked eyeing the out of kilter jump plane, worry tying his hydraulics in knots.

"Nothing that is too difficult to fix but someone…" Maru gave a long suffering look in Patches direction, "got a bit happy with the meds."

"What?" Patch gave a dramatic sweep with her tines. "He had vertigo and you told me told me to give him some antinausea stuff."

"You dosed him with enough medication to ground a Galaxy!"

"It is not my fault that I didn't know what his empty weight off the top of my head. He usually reports in his loaded weight into the tower."

"Clearly this is the last time I am ever going to let you dose anyone." Maru huffed.

Listening to batter between Patch and Maru, finally allowed the little ball of panic in Blade's tank to slowly release. Neither, tug would be engaged in the argument if they were not completely sure that everyone was going to be okay. With the two still bickering, Blade headed to his hanger.

As far as major air emergencies, Blade could live with today's outcome. Yes, Cabbie would be grounded for the next week until the meds were out of his system. Yes, the ground team looked like had just taken a ride in a rock tumbler and would be taking the long way to work for the next few weeks. But being okay with the outcome of the near miss still didn't mean that the Chief was looking forward to the paperwork. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to hear your feedback on this story. So if you have a moment, please leave a review. Oh, and I did the math, and Cabbie really can't do a barrel roll. It would tear his wings off. So if you own one of the 4 C-119's still flying please do not attempt the maneuvers used in this story as I took a whole lot of creative liberty.


	2. Windlifter Vs Powerlines

  ****

At Piston Peak National Park there were some emergencies tales that were told around the campfire for years, then there was the ones that quickly slipped from campfire story to legend. The epic tale of the day that Windlifter took on the Powerline was one of the latter. If you believed the large Sikorsky's telling, it was a story right up there with the tales of Coyote. If you believed Maru's, it was the best drinking saga this side of the Mississippi. But if you were lucky to catch Blade or Cabbie on a good night, you could get the straight truth about when Skycrane flew into the teeth of danger in order to save a civilian skydiver from certain death, and that was a pretty remarkable yarn in its own right.

The story begins in a recognizable enough place…the main hanger of the Piston Peak Air Attack Base on a clear August morning. It was a Saturday, which meant that the Air Attack team would probably be called out to corral a couple of runaway campfires, but for now, everyone around base was enjoying a lazy start to their day. That was at least until they got the emergency call.

"It is outside of the park's boundaries, but we have a MOA with the county, and they are sounding pretty desperate." Patch explained quietly as she spread out her maps on the hanger floor in front of the gathered Air Attack Team.

"And they don't have anyone else who can make the rescue?" Blade asked glancing at the photos that the county had emailed them. The fact that a young, Mini Cooper was currently hanging from its back tires from a massive lyra-mast transition line.

"Unfortunately, the county relies on us for the really fancy hoist work." Patch shrugged.

"That is going to take more than some fancy hoist work." Cabbie glanced around Blade at the photos, before settling on his tires. "With as badly as that parachute is tangled up on the line, that car is going to need to be cut free."

"And it doesn't help that those power lines are still energized." Maru grimaced. "That poor punk is going to be barbecued when he crosses the wrong lines. With the canyon winds that will pick up this evening, that car is running out of time."

"There has got to be specialists for this type of rescue." Dynamite shrugged. "Couldn't they bring in someone who knows what they are doing in this situation?"

"The closest specialist is working on a job in Canada right now and there just isn't going to be enough time to get him down here in time." Patch allowed her words to hang in the air, which of course made the entire team feel completely sick. It was their job to put their lives on the line in order to save others, but sometimes despite their training and effort; sometimes they found themselves in situations that they were powerless to help. This appeared to be one of those moral-crushing times.

"There might be a way." Windlifter said into the silence. The majority of the air attack team stared at the reserved Sikorsky in shock.

Blade, however, just quirked an eyebrow at his lieutenant. "Do tell."

* * *

" _May I just say that this whole situation makes me rather uncomfortable_." The big C-119 commented from his position high in the air, a little over two hours after they had gotten the initial call for help.

"Do you think we should abort?" Blade said seriously, from his own vantage point on a low hill only a few hundred meters away from the strung up car.

Cabbie sighed audibly over the radio.  _"No, but that still doesn't change the fact that I don't like this situation."_

" _Says the plane who has gotten shot at."_  Maru interjected with good humor.

" _To be fair, I didn't like those situations either."_  The former warplane huffed, but without much bite and Blade was once again glad for the C-119's steadying influence during this type of situation. The Chief always knew that Cabbie would do his best to minimize the risks for the entire team. That said, when the chips were down, he could trust the old bird to fly through slag to get the job done.

Unfortunately, Blade was currently not nearly as sure of Windlifter yet. The Skycrane was a hard aircraft to pin down. There was no arguing that the kid knew his stuff, but he was so quiet that it was difficult sometimes to gauge his actual talents. Today would be a solid test of just how deep those abilities might run. All the air boss could do was pray that Windlifter was at good at his job as the helicopter seemed to think.

"Sterile cockpit procedures are now in place." Blade called over the air attack frequency trying to focus down his doubt. It was too late to turn back now. "Everyone report position."

" _Windlifter and Blackout, at staging location."_

" _Maru here. I am currently heading towards area designated for the ground EMS vehicles."_

" _Cabbie, currently circling at 700 AGL, one mile from the incident site. Over."_

"Windlifter, is your team ready to go?" Blade asked as he looked over to where the heavy helicopter was staged.

" _Yes, Sir."_  The Skycrane replied.

" _Prepardo."_  Blackout echoed.

"Alright. Let's prove why the word  _Rescue_  is part of our job description." At Blade's go ahead the valley was enveloped by the loud whine as Windlifter's engines thundered to life.

* * *

Blackout really wasn't fond of power poles. It was a well know fact that electricity made the smokejumper nervous ever since he had accidently gotten himself fried when he accidently cut a downed power line during a fast moving blaze his second year on the team. The whole park had lost power for three days…Blackout had really only woken up three weeks later, drugged to the gills and still undergoing repairs for electrical burns. While he thankfully didn't remember the exact moment that he had been zapped, the difficult recovery had made quite an impression.

Honestly, if ground pounder had had a choice he probably wouldn't have volunteered for this mission. But there hadn't been a choice. In order for the Air Attack Team to safely extract the car from the transition wires, a vehicle with cutting power was needed and Blackout was the only smokejumper equipped with a saw. Then there was the fact that everyone was willing to put their trust and faith in his skills. The Chief, Uncle Cabbie, Windlifter, all of the jumpers….they were willing to rest the success of the entire mission on his blade. The thought made him swell a little bit with pride, but it didn't chance away all of his nervousness.

"So, have you ever done this type of work before?" Blackout asked taking a deep breath, as he tried to ignore the fact he was currently strapped to one of Windlifter's struts flying toward his nemesis.

"No." Windlifter rumbled, and Blackout could feel his fear instinct quickly rising. "But I have flown many missions that were more difficult. To those with a steady set of rotors, working with live power lines is considered to be safer than many heli-logging operations I have participated in."

"So you think that it will work?"

"I am betting our lives on it, and that is not a bet I take lightly…" Windlifter trailed off leaving a long, uncomfortable pause. Blackout was almost trying to figure out how to restart the conversation so that he would have something to take the edge off of his panic, when the helicopter spoke up again. "After all, if I died doing something stupid, I am sure that my wife would make sure that my afterlife would be rather unpleasant."

"Estoy tan condendo." Blackout muttered under his breath.

" _Coming in for final approach."_  The Skycrane's voice echoed across both the radio and in the air around them. It was a sound that caught Blackout off guard and he had to keep himself from jumping. Glancing around the smokejumper could see that they were slipping into position alongside an exhausted looking vehicle who was currently hanging by its rear tires on a transition line a good 75 feet above the ground. It was at that moment that allowed Blackout to push his fear aside and focus on the problem in front of him.

The baby blue mini cooper in front of him was looking significantly worse for wear. The car was clearly exhausted, which wasn't surprising given how much damage it had done to itself trying to fight itself free of the tangled parachute. Fortunately for the car, it appeared that the more it had struggled the tighter its parachute had tangled itself around the transition line. If the opposite situation had happened then the county fire apparatuses would be clearing a fatal accident out of the field below. Once Windlifter brought Blackout close enough to the car, the smokejumper reached out to make contact with their rescuee…only to car bucked violently under his touch, forcing Windlifter to adjust his tack to avoid getting accidently hit.

"I know it is hard, but I need you to hold still for me. Do you understand?" Blackout spoke using the words and the clear, commanding voice they had taught him in fire school. The car didn't speak in reply but stilled to a slight quiver under Blackout's touch. "Good, good. My name is Blackout, and the helicopter is named Windlifter. We are going to be working to get you down. Do you have a name?"

"Alex." The car managed to stammer.

"Good to meet you Alex. What I am going to do is attach both of Windlifer's hoists to you. That is going to be the first steps of getting you down." Blackout manipulated the hoist clips as he spoke, placing them in the most secure location he could reach from this position. It wasn't the most ideal set up, but it was the best that Blackout was going to manage without forcing Windlifter to put his blades through the power cables. It was painstaking work, but finally the smokejumper was satisfied.

"Okay Alex, I have secured your harness to Windlifter here, so we know that you are not going to fall. Now I am going to need to start cutting you free. Do you understand me?" The car looked up at Blackout in pure terror but still managed to let out a small affirmative squeak. "Good." Blackout breathed and pulled out his blade.

* * *

Blade was pretty sure that Windlifter was going to give him premature engine failure if he kept these kinds of stunts up. Right now the giant helicopter was hovering just feet from certain death in order to give Blackout a steady platform to work from. While the Chief knew that as long as Windlifter was hovering they would be protected from the deadly electricity flowing through transition lines, Blade also knew that if the Skycrane made one false move and accidently sliced through one of those power cables all Windlifter, Blackout, and the car would all be dead before the hit the ground.

" _Hoists attached. Blackout has begun to cut the parachute clear."_ The Skycrane's tone was as calm and measured as if he was making a comment about the weather instead of reporting on a life and death situation.

From the Chief's vantage point he could see that Blackout's blade was out and that the smokejumper was slowly slicing through cords that were keeping the car tangled to the powerline. The process was painfully slow. Yes, Blade had expected that. Blackout, of all the members of the air attack team, had an extremely healthy respect for electricity. Still, the helicopter really just wanted this rescue to be completed and have all of his people safely back at the base.

It looked like Blackout was really making progress. One of the car's tires had clearly been released from what was binding it, and the jumper had started working on the second one. At any moment now Windlifter would be shifting position to allow him to safely take on the weight of the car without putting his rotors or the power line at risk. Then the last strap holding the car up snapped and all slag broke loose…

* * *

It took a few long moments for Blackout's brain to catch up with his body. One moment he had been cutting away the damaged parachute. The next there was a very loud sound and jumper was staring at an odd angle towards the ground. After a few shaky breaths, Blackout glanced around and realized just how screwed they were. The last of the lines must have snapped because the car was now dangling underneath the Skycrane. Unfortunately, no one had expected the sudden transfer of weight and it had caused Windlifter's tail boom to swing under the power cables, which had of course managed to trap the wire underneath his main rotor blades.

In short, they were so dead. One wrong move, one even slight puff of wind would cause the blades to strike the transition lines, shearing the high tension cables…killing them almost instantaneously. Blackout had to bite his tongue to keep from swear, very colorfully, in multiple languages. The car below him didn't have nearly as much restraint and was currently screaming bloody murder below them. The car was also struggling which was only making their situation worse. Blackout was desperately trying to find the words in his brain to get the car to still, but he was quickly discovering that panic was drowning him in a quicksand mixture of English and Spanish. Luckily, Windlifter was clearly not being affected by the same condition.

"If you wish to live," the Skycrane spoke with an authority that left no room for questions, "you will hold absolutely still."

All three vehicles hung in the air for a long eternity, as the Sikorsky tried to puzzle their way out of their current situation. Neither the car nor Blackout dared to blink, let alone breathe, during this time and it was hard for the jumper to determine which was louder. The steady thunder of Windlifter's blades or the pounding of Blackout's own hydraulics.

" _Windlifter."_ The Chief spoke softly as though he wasn't sure if he dared to speak.  _"Do you need assistance."_

"Chief, this is Blackout." The Jumper managed to choke out in reply. "Windlifter is a bit preoccupied at the moment. We will call back in a moment."

There was another series of painfully long moments. Then the world slid sideways. In a single graceful maneuver Windlifter's tail and rotors were free of the power lines. Blackout gave a long sigh of relief. They had all survived. Now they could finally go home and Blackout could curl up in the smokejumper hanger and try to regain his equilibrium again. Unfortunately it appeared that Windlifter had other plans. Instead of heading to the relief station where they were going to drop off the car, the helicopter had nosed Blackout back to the knotted mess of fabric and straps surrounding the transmission line.

"Blackout, please finish removing the parachute."

"But…" Blackout, tried quelling the tremble in his voice.

"If we leave the work undone, then the first breeze will catch the loose fabric and cause it to cross the transmission lines causing an unnecessary fire, and possibly cause a cascading failure of the power system." Windlifter pause, as if for effect. "We will not allow that to happen."

Blackout sighed again. He hated to admit that Windlifter was right. Pulling out his blade once again, Blackout made short work of what was left of the parachute.

* * *

Maru had been pretty impressed by the show. Yes, he was also pretty upset that Windlifter had tried to do something so incredibly stupid, but the tug could respect fancy flying when he saw it. What the Skycrane had just done would have impressed most of the stunt copters that Maru had worked with in Hollywood. Honest, the medic doubted if any of those helicopters could have made the rescue, which of course meant that Windy had just gone up significantly higher on Maru's list of whirly birds worth keeping around.

Now, to find out if those ridiculous, emergency maneuvers Windlifter had successfully pulled off had caused any damage. The tug watched as the Skycrane bore its precious cargo towards the group of gathered EMS vehicles and lowered the car to the ground. Once the hoists had successfully been detached from the limp vehicle, the car had apparently passed out at some point in the rescue, Windlifter found a relatively open area just beyond where the county crew had parked. Even as Maru made his way towards Windlifter and Blackout, it was clear that both vehicles were completely exhausted by their recent escapades.

"Well kid, you have gotten quite the story to tell today." Maru said undoing the tethers that had kept Blackout securely attached to the helicopter's strut.

"I just hope that I don't ever have to do that again." The Jumper said stifling a yawn as he rolled around, clearly relishing the feel of dirt beneath him once more. Confident that Blackout was not in any danger of keeling over at the moment, Maru turned his focus on the helicopter.

"Windlifter, Windlifter!" A sharp wrap on the Skycrane's nose finally got his attention.

"Yes." The big helicopter blinked and tried to focus on Maru. The sight instantly caused any frustration that the mechanic might have had toward the big green chopper to melt away.

"Let's get you checked out and make sure that you guys didn't fry anything important." Windlifter didn't fight as Maru lead the two attack team members away from the hub-hub of the main emergency service vehicles.

Maru didn't end up finding anything particularly wrong with the two air attach team members. Though the mechanic did end up grounding Windlifter for 48 hours just to make sure, and both vehicles complained that their fuel tasted funny for the next couple days. Other than that it was clear that the big Sikorsky had survived one of the most dangerous tasks that a helicopter could take on without being worse for wear.


	3. Dusty Vs Wake Turbulents

As a general rule, Dusty was a morning kind of plane. He wasn't sure if it was part of his Air Tractor breeding or simply something that was beaten into him over the decades of crop dusting, but the racer rarely slept past the dawn. The habit had treated him well when he was dusting the fields as it allowed him to get his work done early in the day while the wind was still calm as a whisper. Turned out air tankers tended also to be early birds for the same reason, which had been a relief to Dusty because it had been one less thing to adjust to. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Dusty from waking up on the wrong side of the hanger every once in a while.

"Wakey, wakey kid!" Maru voice cut through Dusty's sleep fogged brain as the mechanic rapped on the hanger door. "Fire is a burning, and it isn't going to wait for your lollygagging."

Clearly, this morning was one of those mornings where Dusty had woken up on the wrong side of the hanger. The SEAT did his best

"Maru?"

"You look like slag." The mechanic stated with a sarcastic grin tugging on the edges of his lips as he took a long drag of coffee.

"Thanks." Dusty sighed.

"You caught something?"

"Don't think so." The plane shrugged, he didn't feel sick. He just felt off. "I guess I slept funny."

"Sure kid." Maru gave him another quick look over before speaking. "

"No, I will be fine." Dusty quickly replied and pushed by Maru rolling his way onto the tarmac as fast his tires would carry him. After his crash and gear box repaired Maru hadn't let him fly for a good two weeks. There was no way in slag that Dusty was going to give the base mechanic an excuse to ground him again anytime soon. Especially when he could already hear the rest of his team's engines spinning up for takeoff.

Glancing across the tarmac he could tell that the jumpers were already loaded in Cabbie and base's three other aircraft were finishing tanking up on retardant. Clearly, Patch had given the alarm, and Dusty had somehow managed to sleep through it. Taking in the situation the SEAT knew that he didn't have enough time to do his entire morning routine, but decided that he had enough time to grab a quick cup of the bitter firehouse brew. After all, with as fuzzed as his brain was caffeine was needed to become a functioning vehicle.

He burnt his tongue on his mug of coffee as he chugged it down, but the caffeine did seem to quiet his systems a bit. By the time Dusty made it back out to the tarmac the rest of the Air Attack Team had already taken off and Maru was waiting by the filling station to hook him up.

"That must have been an impressive fire." Dusty stared at the empty tarmac with wide eyes.

"Naw, there is just a cold front expected to come in later this morning." Maru explained has he hooked Dusty to the retardant and started to fill his water tanks. "It looks bad enough that Blade is a bit spooked, so we all figured it was worth busting our afts to get it under control before the weather hit."

"Oh." Dusty tried, but couldn't quite keep his disappointment from being left behind from sneaking into his voice. Something that Maru picked up in an instant.

"Well, you are the fast one of the bunch." Maru gave one of his exasperated sighs. "If someone had to catch up, you are the best one to do it."

The words made a little ball of panic in Dusty's tank let go. It was true, if the team was pressed for time, it made the most sense to let the helicopters and even Cabbie go on ahead. The racer could easily catch up without even redlining his engine. A bit more relaxed Dusty allowed Patch to give him the vectors for the fire and took off into the early morning sky.

* * *

Based on the coordinates that Patch gave Dusty the fire was just east of the Upper White Falls, somewhere close to the new road that the park had put in to get him out after he had taken his nosedive into the forest. While no one knew for sure yet what had caused this particular fire, Dusty suspected that it probably had to do with the large amount of off road activity that had started to occur in that corner of park once access had been provided. On that type of slope it wasn't unusual for a vehicle to caused rockslide or even a backfire to light a small fire without the visitor realizing the damage they had done.

Oriented to destination, Dusty gunned his engines to catch up with the rest of the Air Attack Team. He reached the group just in time to slip behind Dipper in the formation. From the column of smoke it looked like a relatively small fire…the type that Air Attack Teams excelled at preventing from becoming big fires. Blade was circling the flames preparing to announce the plan, when he was interrupted.

" _Chief, I think you may want to get up here_ _and take_ _a look at this."_  Cabbie's voice sounded over the radio with a clipped efficiency that spoke volumes. In response the Blade peeled out of the formation to match altitude with the C-119. As he got high enough to see over Railway Ridge, the Chief actually swore over the radio.

" _Okay muddroppers change of plans. Fix wings I need you to get back to base at your best speed."_

" _Do you want the smokejumpers on the ground before we leave?"_  Cabbie asked, as he circled higher.

The Air Attack Boss actually took a few engine beats to think before speaking.  _"No. If the weather is as bad as it looks then I don't want to risk putting the ground pounders in front of the blaze without the fire being a bit more controlled, especially on that steep of a slope. Windlifter and I will stay on station and monitor the situation until the weather clears."_

" _Rodger that."_  Cabbie acknowledged Blade's order before turning his nose towards home and causing his engines to crescendo to their full thunder. Just from the sound alone, Dusty didn't doubt that the old bird was redlining his systems to get home quickly. The C-119 was surprisingly fast when he did that.

" _What are you two doing?"_  Blade's voice snapped Dusty and Dipper back to focus.  _"Get back to base best speed."_

Neither of the fixed wings argued, with their boss, instead they high tailed it after Cabbie. When they finally climbed high enough to see what had cause the jump plane so much concern, it instantly became clear why it was so urgent to get the fixed wing aircraft back on the ground ASAP. A wall cloud was sweeping up from the south at a pretty impressive clip.

By the time that the three planes had crossed Canopy Dome, the wall cloud had already cut them off from the lodge and both the park's towers were squawking a Pan, Pan, Pan Alert about the coming severe weather. Still it looked like the air attack team would successfully get their tires on the ground before the wall cloud was on top of them. Then the gusts began and all bets were off.

Dipper was the first of the three to make it to base, and she managed to make a rough but successful landing. Both Dusty and Cabbie were not too far behind, but the wind was giving the two of them a little more trouble. Dusty's light airframe was being thrown around to the point that it was starting to give the little plane a bit of vertigo. Cabbie on the other hand had all of his flaps up as he attempted to fly a crab maneuver in an a vain attempt to steady out the ride for the smoke jumpers still in his hold.

" _Dusty, get aft on the ground_." The cargo plane's voice was tight with stress as the big plane eyed the black current of precipitation and wind bearing down on them.

" _But."_

" _This isn't time to argue."_ Cabbie bit out over the noise of his straining engines.

" _I am not going to land before you do."_  Dusty countered, pulling up on the throttle which caused him to slip behind the larger aircraft.

"Fine." Cabbie grunted in resignation, clearly unhappy with the situation, but also clearly unwilling to stay in the sky and endangering his smokejumpers any longer than necessary.

The big plane made an uneven hard landing, which really looked like it hurt. That didn't stop Cabbie from clearing the runway as quickly as possible though leaving Dusty room to land. The racer took advantage of the cleared runway and powered up his engine to make a quick landing. That proved to be a big mistake. As Dusty's tires were close to kissing the runway he felt a strong wing spinning around him. He had nottime to react as vortex lifted him from the safety of the tarmac. The world spun around the little plane, then the world went black.

* * *

The first thing that Dusty noticed when consciousness finally decided to crash down on him was the fact that everything hurt. The second was that the world was upside down. Out of the two realizations the later was the most concerning. It was against a planes nature to be lying on its canopy as it was the most delicate part of their frames.

The SEAT tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he tried to identify more aspects of his surroundings. The tarmac below him was cold and wet under the metal of his skin. It was raining out, but something large was sheltering most him from the worst of the precipitation. Given the size and shape of the relative dry spot, Dusty assumed that Cabbie was currently sheltering him under one of his broad wings…which means he had managed to crash…on the runway…in front of everyone. Dusty was pretty sure that no one on the crew was going to let him live that down.

"You awake kid?" Maru asked as his tires rolled into the down plane's view.

"I think so." Dusty wiggled his nose trying to determine if he had hit his prop on the way down. The way the shaft hurt indicated that the answer was most defiantly a yes. "What happened?"

Cabbie sighed. "You got stuck in my wake turbulent, which of course flipped you right on your canopy and by your reaction I am assuming that has never happened to you before."

"Of course not…"

"Well, there is a first time for everything. I guess. I suspect that the only time that you have flown with a big aircraft have been around bigger airports. When you are at a controlled airport, the tower keeps track of the aircraft flying in and out of a runway and stacks the planes to prevent this type of problem. Out here everyone is kind of responsible for making sure that we keep out of each other's wakes and know our limits. For example, Dipper knows that when she is fully loaded, she is heavy enough to withstand my wake when we take off, but not when she lands. I know that taking off right after Windlifter is going to shake me up enough that Pinecone will get airsick, which leads to messes in places I would prefer to stay clean." Cabbie leveled a kind, but stern look in Dusty's direction. "And after today, it means that you do not argue with us when we tell you to land or take off first. Your wake is small enough that it isn't going to affect our flying, but you get flipped by one of the bigger planes wakes at the wrong time and getting flipped on your head is going to be the least of your problems."

"Good to know." Dusty admitted. "So what do we do now? I mean, how do I get right side up?"

There was an uncomfortably long silence, then Maru spoke up. "About that…looks like we are going to have to wait for Windlifter to get back so we can get you back on your tires. But I am sure that Cabbie and the jumpers will be happy to keep you company while you wait."

It would take another hour and a half before Windlifter got back to base and Dusty on his tires. Maru then grounded the racer for the next week to complete repairs and run tests to make sure that Dusty hadn't knocked something really important loose, but eventually everything was better than new. Plus, Dusty had learned a valuable lesson. Never follow a heavy into an airport, especially when they tell you to go first.


	4. Dipper Vs Thin Ice

It was the tail end of Dipper's first season with the Piston Peak Air Attack team, and the main line had burst…again, if you listened to Cabbie who seemed to be the aircraft who seemed to be the least freaked out by the situation. He was also the only aircraft that wasn't a tanker, so he didn't have a whole lot of room to complain.

Anyway, the main water line had burst somewhere between the entrance of the park and the base, which normally wouldn't be a problem at this time of year, but a camper had left a fire unattended, and now the flames were threatening to spread up a steep shrubby slope. The smokejumpers were already on the ground but were struggling to get a purchase, let alone cut a line across the shrubby surface. All the tankers had dropped the retardant in their tanks, but they had gotten on even coverage due to gusty winds. In short, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and Dipper was pretty certain that Chief Ranger was about to have a conniption fit.

"Patch." Looking at the chaos below them, the red and black helicopter had paged the tower with an exasperated sigh. "What are the conditions at Anchor Lake?"

" _High winds would make it challenging for the SEATs or Windlifter to pull off of the lake, but the parameters are well within the parameters for a seaplane to make a stepped or plowing style water scoop."_

"Roger that." Blade scanned the movement of the fire before glancing up to where Dipper was in a circling holding pattern above him. "Well, Muddropper, willing to give it a go?"

Dipper was kind of interested in trying to come back next season, so her answer was a resounding yes. Though as she came in for her approach, she started to have a nagging doubt forming at the back of her mind, there was something wrong with that lake, but she simply couldn't put her tire on it. For a body of water being swept across by a fresh breeze, it was awfully glassy. It was not until her keel hit a hard surface though, that she realized what was wrong.

"Ice!" Dipper managed to yelp out on the radio as she throttled up her engine and tried to claw her way back up into the air. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done as the Goose both heard and felt the scratch of the shred of tearing metal. Based on the amount of pain that was lancing through her keel the plane convinced that it was a miracle that she hadn't been catapulted onto her canopy.

As she fought her way up into the air, she heard the whistle of air entering her hull. Whatever was damaged was causing drag, and that was making it more difficult to stay level. Dipper's world narrowed as she fought to stay in the sky. In the back of her brain, she could hear both Patch and the Chief try to ping her on the radio to find out what had happened, but she was too focused on not flying into one of the ridge lines to answer.

"I am here." The wounded plane finally managed to choke out. "The Lake iced, hull damaged, making emergency landing back at base."

"Do you need an escort?" Patch said spoke with her 'slag has hit the fan' staccato. "I say again, Dipper, do you need an escort?"

"No." Dipper managed to bit out. "I think that I can make it on my own."

The entire Air Attack Team then waited in a frightened silence. The only vehicle speaking was Patch whose calm voice acted as a lifeline, helping Dipper to find the least windy route home and lining her up with the runway. After a painfully long transit time, the airport was in view. Then she was completing her final approach where all the plane could do was pray that her landing gear would be stable enough to hold her weight.

When her tires touched the runway, she felt a jolt of pain. It was clear that her landing gear had been damaged by the ice, but the struts held, and she was able to make a rolling stop on the tarmac. Slag it hurt to put any pressure though, and she was grateful that Maru was there to help tow her into the safety of his hanger. Once the mechanic had determined that she hadn't gotten a concussion from the incident, he had dosed her with the good stuff and let the plane slip into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

Windlifter had managed to pull enough water off of a local stream to put out the flames, and soon the entire crew was at base staring at her misfortune. Some of the vehicles had been better about the situation that others. The smokejumpers had spent an afternoon trying to show them their best tricks. The impromptu show had continued until Trip had gouged Avalanche and the dozer had ended up next to her in Maru's shop for the rest of the evening. Cabbie had attempted to teach her chess…the key word there being 'attempted.' Windlifter had loaned her music, and Patch had dug up some racing magazines.

While the various other vehicles on base had done a pretty good job of keeping her mind off of her situation, it was still the tail end of the season and one by one each vehicle left the park as their contract ended. Soon everyone was gone, leaving her with only Maru and the Chief left on base. And from the cold shoulder that Blade was giving her, she was pretty sure that she was not the Chiefs favorite plane at the moment.

"How is she doing?" She heard Blade Ranger ask early one morning when she assumed that the Chief thought she was still asleep.

"Dipper?" Maru had replied waving his mug of coffee towards his hanger, and of course the wounded plane within. "She will be better than new in no time. She scratched up her paint something impressive, but all of the damage to her hull was clean. Nothing a little solder and a welding torch couldn't fix."

"Good to hear." The Chief did sound relieved, but Dipper's heart sunk when she heard the words that followed. "How quickly do you think that you can get her back in the air and out of here?"

Maru made a sound like he was sucking on his teeth, then took a swig from his cup. "Hull wounds are tricky on a flying boat, but I would guess that she will be healed enough to run a couple of tests by the end of tomorrow. If she clears those, we can let her flock south by the end of the week."

Blade just gave a dip of his rotors in acknowledgment, and Maru headed back to his hanger. He puttered around in the space for a few long moments before Dipper mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering her.

"Am I in trouble?" She muttered, just loud enough to be heard above the sound of the morning breeze. At her words, the mechanic had spun on here and given her a level look.

"What in Chrysler gave you that idea kid?"

"Just the way the boss has been avoiding me since the…well you know." The flying boat refused to meet the tugs eyes.

Maru gave her an honest to goodness eye roll in response. "Listen, Honey, the Chief ain't mad at you. He is mainly mad at himself for not realizing that it was late enough in the season for the lake to have ice on it or that ice might be a problem for ya."

"But I couldn't even see the black ice there…"

"Exactly," Maru shrugged, "but that ain't going to stop Blade from feeling guilty about not considering how cold the park has been lately."

"What I am trying to say is that I did so well through the entire season, but I managed to have an accident on the second to last day of the season that forced you guys to extend my contract by a week, so I could get repaired enough to get back off the ground, and I was kind of hoping that I could come back next year and work fires again, but after."

Maru just chuckled. "Oh, he will have you back if you apply."

Sure enough, Dipper put in her application to work as a seasonal firefighting aircraft at the Piston Peak Air Attack Base that November from her winter position being a fuel tender in the Caribbean and by the end of January she had gotten her acceptance letter in the mail. Soon a packet of forms arrived, and hidden among the insurance and photo release forms was a little note in Maru's handwriting…ribbing her about keeping her eyes out for thin ice.


	5. Blade Vs Stuck Hoist

When Blade hit the ground, his first thought was that Maru was going to kill him. That was if the fire that was bearing down on him didn't get him first, which a wasn't a pretty thought. The helicopter took a couple of deep breaths to try to prevent himself from hyperventilating. He could get himself out of this situation if he could only think things through.

After a couple of moments, once Blade had managed to calm his RPM a bit, and he attempted to pull his snagged hoist from underneath the widowmaker that had entangled it. He was greeted with a sharp sheared feeling in the hoist itself and enough pain to take his breath away. Throughout the situation, his hoist cable hadn't budged an inch. Slag.

Stars dancing across his eyes and fresh out of ideas; Blade tried to exam his surroundings. The Widowmaker had managed to pull him down into a rocky ravine, which probably explained why no one was answering his radio transmissions. It also perfect terrain for a deadly chimney fire. The half rotted log was a good 12 feet long, a foot in diameter, and weighed more than he did, and the helicopter was still kicking himself for not noticing that it existed.

Blade was really starting to feel like an idiot. He had broken one of the cardinal rules of the air attack team, and not brought a spotter for a hoist mission. He had placed the remote seismic sensor only two weeks ago in the mountain meadow. So when it was threatened by a small wildfire caused by a runaway campfire he had gone to move the expensive piece of scientific equipment while Maru was topping up the rest of the teams retardant.

Locating the sensor had been easy, and Blade snagged it with his hoist on the first attempt. Unfortunately, as he worked a slight breeze came up causing the seismic sensor to swing in the direction of the meadow's edge. The wind also caused a dead tree to finally fall to earth, snagging the hoist cable on the way down.

This, of course, led Blade to be stuck in his current predicament. Trapped on the ground, Blade ruminated on the fact that he probably should have asked Maru to install a wire cutter on him. That way he could have cut his hoist cable and tried to escape to safety.

The helicopter didn't even know if his team had noticed that was missing yet. Then he heard the thunder of pistons above him. Glancing towards the sky, he spotted the white belly and twin tails of #51 above him. Watching the jump plane make slow even circles with him in the center, Blade relaxed a little bit. His team had found him, and now there was a very real chance for rescue.

The smoke around him started to get thicker, and sparks were starting to swirl in the air around him, but Blade didn't have to worry about the flames for long. The unmistakable thrum of Windlifter's rotors was soon above him, and Blade felt the whoosh of a line of retardant being placed around him. The higher pitched whine of Dipper's engine soon followed…and the flying boat proved that she needed a little more practice laying down retardant.

Blade didn't know how long he spent trying to blink the slick red substance out of his eyes, but by the time his vision was starting to clear, he could pick out another set of familiar noises. Glancing downward he found a small, yellow smudge smirking up at him."

"Hello, Boss." Dynamite practically purred. "With all the lectures you have been giving us about watching out for widowmakers, I find it rather entertaining that you were the one that got snagged."

"You are finding this far too entertaining for my liking." The helicopter harrumphed.

"Well, we get our entertainment anywhere that we can." She stuck out her tongue. "Boys, what do you think? Should we rescue the Chief?"

There was a choir of yeses, which was mostly drowned out by Avalanche, and the smokejumper team dived into their work.

* * *

Blade wasn't particularly surprised when Maru grounded him the moment that he got back to base. After the tug had insisted that Blade have an escort back to base when it became clear that the Chief intended to fly back on his own power. Upon arriving home, Maru had taken one look at Blade's mangled hoist and dosed him with something that knocked him out for the rest of the afternoon.

It was twilight by the time that the helicopter returned to the land of the living. Glancing around Blade was pleasantly surprised that his base was still in one piece. He yawned, which seemed to be Maru's cue to come over and start running diagnostics on his hoist. The appendage was sore when the mechanic prodded it, but not nearly as painful as it had been. Even though the helicopter was still hurting, he also couldn't help but feel tired. He settled lower on his tires and allowed his eyes to close. He was moments from drifting back to sleep when he felt a spanner connect with his hatch cover.

"Oh, no you don't." Maru had mock glared. "You have been taking up space in my hanger all afternoon, if you are going to sleep, go sleep in your own hanger."

"So does that mean that I'm cleared to fly tomorrow?" Blade yawned as he unlocked his breaks and rolled onto the apron.

"We will see." The tug stated in a tone that told Blade that the actual answer was no. "Now go to bed."

"Yes, sir." Blade replied the sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

Blade rolled out into the darkening night towards the hanger that he called home. Around him, he could hear the sounds of his base relaxing for the evening. The jumpers were in the main hanger watching CHoPs again, which probably meant that Cabbie was there to make sure that gravel munchers didn't stay up all night. The blue cast of light coming from Dipper's hanger probably indicated that she was updating her dating profile. Patch's cabin was quiet, so she had probably turned in for the evening…and Windlifter was probably somewhere on base being Windlifter.

Finally, at his hanger, he glanced around the base one last time. Then comforted by the knowledge that his team was capable of holding things together without him if they needed to, the Air Boss went to bed.


	6. Waterbomber Vs Solid Core Cloud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the final crew of the Marianas Mars.

Even over the roar of the flames, the thunder of the collision had been unmistakable…but there was no time to dwell on what had just happened. They still had an active fire boiling beneath them and a team of aerial firefighters who were threatening to freeze up with shock. Cabbie only allowed himself a few propeller beats to take the situation in. When he realized that Blade Ranger, the new Air Boss, was starting to flounder the C-119 made an executive decision.

" _Is anyone picking up an ELT?"_  The former military plane barked out. The order seemed to shake a little sense into three members of the team. The two young SEATs babbled a negative while Windlifter, the Air Attack Team's Skycrane gave a more definitive no. No one in the group mentioned what the lack of emergency locator transmitter signal probably meant.

"Alright." Cabbie breathed trying to steady himself, trying to stay in the moment and face the problem in front of him.  _"I need everyone to climb in elevation and give me space to make a visual."_

While it would have made more sense to have one of the helicopters, or perhaps one of the SEATs make the visual confirmation of the crash, Cabbie didn't want to force one of the younger aircraft to see one of their fellow tankers…one of their friends, scatter across the cliffs. After all, the warplane had seen enough of his friends go down to know that he never wanted the kids to have to see the raw carnage of an aircraft crash if he could find a way to protect them from it. Especially if the plane who had carved a new crater on the side of the mountain was someone they knew.

In the back of Cabbie's mind, he realized that the radio chatter had gone almost completely quiet. Even the ground crews had gone silent as everyone held their collective breaths, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. On the first pass of the crash site, the C-119 saw that everyone's fears were confirmed. There was no way that Mari could have survived the impact. The only thing they could do was lay down a solid line of retardant to protect the crumpled remains of the Martin Mars Waterbomber and then get everyone onto the ground before grief started to cloud their judgment.

" _Chief."_  Cabbie's voice sounded hollow as he radioed the team leader.  _"We need to notify the authorities that we have an Alert 3. Then we need to lay down some retardant to protect the remains before getting everyone on the ground."_

At the jump planes words, the big red helicopter's focus seemed to return to the moment.  _"I think that the SEATs have at least half a tank left on them."_

" _The kids don't need to see this."_  Cabbie spoke quietly glancing towards the young M-18 Dromaders who were circling tightly around each other, clearly trying to stay away from the crash site as they gained altitude. The two planes had joined the fire service just out of high school, they had successfully completed their training two years ago up in Oregon, and this was their second season here Piston Peak. They were also the Attack Team's official couple, though neither Aneta nor Paulo would ever admit that they had practically nose dived for each other. At least the two had enough common sense to be discrete and make sure that there wasn't going to be any chicks on the way. But that didn't change the fact that they were kids, and kids didn't need to witness death like this.

" _Roger that."_  The Chief said after a long pause, probably running through a similar list of factors in his head before making an executive call.  _"Windlifter, what does your tankage look like?"_

* * *

Maru knew that something wrong must have happened the moment that the radios went deathly quiet. His instincts were proven right when the words Alert 3, the code for a crashed aircraft, went over the airways followed by Cabbie commenting that 'the kids didn't need to see it.' The mechanic quickly started to gather his supplies, just in case but a page on his private channel quickly changed his priority.

" _Maru…"_ It was Cabbie's steady voice, which usually meant that something had really hit the fan.

" _Yes, Cabbie."_

" _We have had a fatality_."

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yes, I am sure."_  The words were punctuated with anguish.

" _What happened?"_

" _I don't know for sure. All I know was that Mari was coming up one of river valleys to make a dump, but she didn't actually manage to lay down any retardant. Next thing I knew she had plowed full on into one of the mountains."_  As Cabbie spoke, Maru could feel the pain of the last flickers of hope being extinguished. Still, the old plane continued giving details that while mission critical also cut the mechanic like a knife.  _"I think that she saw through the smoke where she was headed. She was trying to pull up at the very end. I could hear her engines scream to full throttle, but with that much weight in her tanks I don't think she had power to clear the ridge."_

" _What is the condition of…"_  Maru started but didn't know how to word the question.

" _I am currently looking down at a substantial debris field."_

" _Understood."_  The mechanic replied blinking back the tears that were forming at the corners of his windshield. There was still so much to do he didn't have time to break down now. As if to acknowledge that fact, Cabbie's next message drove the message home.

" _Maru, I am worried about the mental condition of some of the flight team. Windlifter seems to doing okay considering, but I have no idea exactly what everyone saw."_

" _Just focus on keeping a handle on the scene. I will make sure that I am ready for the rest of the team when they land."_ Maru radioed back, before turning his attention to his mechanic's bay. At moments like these, all the tools before him seem inadequate. Because even though the tug knew how to put together a radial piston engine blindfolded, he also knew repairing broken souls was far more difficult that fixing than broken parts.

* * *

Herding his pair of SEATs back to the Air Attack Base, Blade finally had a chance to reflect on what had to lead up to this disaster.

The season had proven to be a rough one, two warm winters and dry conditions had caused a bark beetle infestation to explode out of control in some forests north of the park. While a lot of hard work the smokejumpers and a conservation corp team had prevented the pests from doing too much damage to the park itself, the beetles had killed just over 25,000 acres of trees in the local forests. It had only taken one lightning strike to make those dry, dead stands go up like a Roman candle.

The resulting crown fires had left the region's fire resources stretched thin. The flames were moving too quickly to be handled by ground crews, and the Piston Peak Air Attack Team didn't have the lift power to put down enough retardant to box the fire in. All Blade's crew had been able to do was perform targeted drops to protect homes, businesses, and other structures. Within hours it became clear that without support, the Piston Peak Air Attack Team's effort was futile.

Realizing the problem the IC had called for help, and the Interagency Fire Center had come through for them in a big way. They didn't just send a tanker; they had gotten one of the biggest flying boats in the business. At 7,500 gallon water capacity Marianas Mars, who insisted on just being called Mari, was technically rated as a Medium tanker, but her tankage was only one of her features. She also had the ability to mix her own retardant and thermogel on board; a key adaptation because her 200-foot wingspan limited her airport access. In fact, Mari had been so big that the only place locally she could land had been Anchor Lake, which had suited the fly boat just fine.

Even though Mari couldn't land at the Air Attack Base and had only been loaned to the team for two weeks, she had quickly become part of the team. The WWII era plane had comfortably slipped into the role of base grandmother, fussing over the young SEATs and smokejumpers, as well as teasing the helicopters and actually flirting good naturally with Cabbie. By the second day, the smokejumpers were finding excuses to sneak down to the lake to see if the old girl would tell them a bedtime story about what it had been like to fly soldiers and cargo across the expanse of the South Pacific or fighting fires in the wide expanses of the Canadian wilderness.

She had fit so well on the team that Blade had actually asked Maru and Patch to whip up a little gift to let the waterbomber know that she was officially an honorary member of the Piston Peak's Air Attack Team and welcome to stop over whenever she worked a California Fire. The two had been working on it last night so it would be ready when she had to leave in three days. And now the worse had happened…and Mari was going to go home wrapped in a Maple Leaf Flag.

The SEATs successfully landed at the base. Paulos tires hit the tarmac harder than they needed to, but little plane seemed to preoccupied notice the jolt. He moved to the end of the runway mechanically, as though he was running on autopilot. Aneta followed him in, and she quickly cleared the tarmac. Rushing to the apron, she huddled so close her fellow SEAT that their delicate stall sensors were almost touching.

Blade chose to touch down close to Maru's hanger. He was going to need to bring the base mechanic up to speed. Then he saw the look in his old friend's eyes and the Air Boss knew that mechanic had already heard the bad news. The two of them sat, silently on the tarmac drawing strength from each other in preparation for facing the challenges ahead. Then Maru broke the moment by giving his hatch a soft pat, before turning his attention on the SEATs. He was going to start the process of the SEATs some oil and helping them talk through their shock. This left Blade the painful duties of calling Marianas Mars' home base and family.

* * *

The paperwork hell had begun the moment that Cabbie's tires kissed the tarmac. While the old plane had circled the crash site protecting it from prying eyes, a TMST had arrived at the base from Sacramento. As soon as he had rolled to a stop, he was waved over to a young Rapid Intervention Vehicle (RIV). The moment Cabbie was parked in front of the official on the airstrip apron; the RIV started running down a long checklist of questions.

At first, the most of these questions were formalities which gave Cabbie a chance to gather a bit of information about his surroundings. There was a white SUV, a state trooper, parked top of the road leading into the base. This probably meant that the Air Attack Base was in lock down and given the nature of the emergency, the trooper was there to keep media and other undesirables out verse keeping any members of the base in.

From the corner of his eye, Cabbie spotted most of the Air Attack team. Aneta and Paulo where both huddled underneath Windlifter's rotorspan, as though they were hoping that the helicopter would protect them from the mass of officials. Patch was listlessly passing back and forth, and Maru was practically standing guard over his fellow vehicles. The smokejumpers were missing; of course, they had been with a group of county interface apparatus on the far side of the fire trying to protect a neighborhood from the flames. A fact that Cabbie was immensely grateful for as it protected the jumpers from being the vehicles called into parachute and examen the remains.

Try as he might Cabbie, couldn't spot Blade's tell-tale red and black markings anywhere on base, but the new Chief's hanger door was open. From the rumbling that was coming appeared to be coming from inside the building, the plane assumed that the helicopter was being debriefed by the TMST's heavier apparatus.

Cabbie didn't have much time to dwell on Blade's predicament, for as soon as the formality questions were asked, the RIV started to press for specific details. Within moments, it became clear that he was the only eye witness to the accident. Cabbie's tanks churned uncomfortably with the realization that he was probably going to have to retail the story of the crash, in detail, to every tug and tender on base as part of the investigation. As he launched into the first of many interviews, C-119 was now incredibly thankful he hadn't had enough time to grab some fuel before the interrogation began.

* * *

The day after the crash was almost worse than the day of it. By that point the numb of adrenalin and shock had worn off, leaving the cold realization of what had happened behind. The TMST grounded the entire air attack team, so this process happened in close quarters, and it was starting to make Blade feel incredibly claustrophobic.

The situation was only made more painful when the Superintendent had come up and yelled at him, and Blade had had to bite his tongue bloody to keep from screaming back at the SUV. Apparently, they the Piston Peaks Air Attack Team were to blame for all of the parks bad press and negative publicity, and as a result of this incident, the base was going to receive another pay cut. By the time Cad had left it was clear that even though the TMST hadn't finished analyzing the debris, and already Blade's boss was laying the fault for the crash at his tires.

The two TMST agents who had been at the base at the time had tried to be kind. They had grabbed him a cup of coffee and went to go ask Cabbie a few more questions so that he would have a few moments alone in his hanger. Blade wanted to use the moments of peace to get himself cleaned and put his thoughts together, but he found himself staring at an old photograph instead. Blade had no clue how long he stared at the image of Nick, but he knew it wasn't health. Unlocking his breaks, he rolled out of the hanger and into the sun. There was still a lot of work to do.

* * *

The following days would be one of the roughest periods that Maru had ever experienced. When he and Blade had lost Nick, the experience had been like driving through slag, but they had at least been given space to grieve and been surrounded by the CHoPs cast and staff. It had been a terrible tragedy, but everyone acknowledges that it had been an accident and no one was pointing the finger of blame at anyone else.

The loss of Mari Mars was proving to be a completely different situation. Within hours of the Waterbomber's death, the rumors started to fly. Some laid the blame at Blade's tires indicating that if a more experienced Air Boss had been managing the airspace, Mari would still be alive. Others were convinced that blame fail squarely on Maru's tines for not properly performing repairs on the flying boat. Both groups treated Cabbie with suspicion, discounting the account of the accident's only eye witness. Claiming that the jump plane had modified his story to make the whole situation seem like an accident.

In short, everyone on base was struggling to keep up with the strain. Sooner or later, Maru knew that something was going to give. All the mechanic could do was hope that it wasn't going to be too ugly.

* * *

The nightmares were getting worse. The two helicopters tried to combat it by working themselves to exhaustion transporting the wreckage back to the lodge for a post-mortem analysis by the TMST, though all the effort did was give them a few hours fitful dozing. The smokejumpers also threw themselves into tasks, but the little gravel-munchers were listless and distracted. The IC on the fire quickly realized that the jumpers were not safe on the fire line, and they were assigned to start reseeding the black. Aneta and Paulo had moved into the same hanger, a fact that everyone noticed and no one vocalized. Patch was withdrawn, and Maru was at risk of overdosing on coffee, and Cabbie knew this because he wasn't getting more than an hour of sleep each night.

In the wee hours of the morning, when the base had finally quieted for the night and before the worst of the nightmares started to arrive, Cabbie would escape the confides of his hanger and sit out on the apron for a bit. Most of the time Maru would join him on the tarmac, looking up at the stars through the smoke hazed sky. The mechanic would, of course, give him a good glare first to remind the old plane that he should be sleeping, but the tug never spoke a word.

Even though Cabbie didn't fully understand why Maru was willing to get up in the middle of the night, just like he really didn't understand why the mechanic kept sneaking barrels of high grade into his hanger, but he was grateful for the company. Just by being there the little tug seemed to help keep the worst of the ghosts at bay.

* * *

It had been a week and a half since the…since the incident and Blade felt like his entire base was spinning out of control. All the air planes on his crew were grounded until they could figure why Mari had crashed. His jumpers were apparently so distracted that they were not even being trusted with the reseeding mission anymore. And to make things worse, his jump plane was currently hold up in his hanger completely smashed which, given his tonnage took a lot. There was only one vehicle on base who could have had that much high grade squirreled away on base. As Blade wasn't going to have any luck chewing Cabbie out at the moment, he was going to have to take his frustration out on Maru instead.

"You didn't have the right." Blade snarled as he rolled into the mechanic's bay.

"And what are you referring to?" Maru didn't even look up from where he was polishing one of his wrenches…which was not the response that Blade was looking for. The Chief was rotor practically vibrated with anger.

"You know what I am talking about." Blade motioned

"Last time I checked Cabbie is a legal adult and allowed to imbibe high grade when he chooses, especially when he is grounded for a prolonged period of time, and the oil will be out of his system before he flies."

"And what if we were cleared to fly?" The Chief practically pounced. "What then."

"Even if we had clearance I wouldn't be putting him in the air."

"Of course not, he is currently three sheets to the wind!"

Maru just looked at his friend as though he had grown a second boom. "Have you been paying any attention about how your team has  _or in Cabbie's case hasn't_  been facing their grief of losing one of their own?"

"And drinking is an appropriated coping mechanism?"

"Maybe not for you, but with him refusing to take a sedative at this point it may be his best option." Maru shot back, and when Blade only continued to glare at his mechanic, the tug just kept on talking. "I know that you have been through Slag this two weeks, but guess what! So has the rest of your team. While you have been filling out paperwork and rotors deep in TMST meetings, the team has been busting their tails to keep from breaking under the strain of the shock and grief. Through all of this, Cabbie has been the one who kept everything grounded. He has spent the last two weeks making sure that the jumpers, the SEATs, heck even Windlifter had someone to listen to them and talk through their fears and issues. After that doesn't he deserve some time for himself."

"Not if it involves high grade." Blade countered defensively.

"Cabbie isn't a drunk." Maru replied with an eye roll.

"It surely looks like it from where I sit!" The helicopter spat angrily.

"Cabbie doesn't drink high grade on base, even though for his engines' sake he probably should. He chose not to because of your past and your rules. But when you haven't gotten more than an hour or two of sleep over the past week, it is understandable why someone might turn to the barrel for a little relief." Maru's voice was cold and level as he refused to meet the Chief eyes until the last statement. "And you of all aircraft should know that sometimes rules should be broken."

"He is not the only one with ghosts, you know." Blade muttered bitterly.

"But you have mostly made peace with your ghost." Maru sighed staring towards the C-119's closed hanger, exhaustion hanging across his frame. "I don't think that Cabbie McHale has fully mastered his. That said, he is a tough bird. Give him some space, and he will bounce back."

* * *

Cabbie was completely nonfunctional the next morning. If the other vehicles on base knew why, they didn't bother mentioning it. They just treated the hungover cargo plane as though he had a case of bad fuel or maybe a migraine. The normally raucous smokejumpers kept their engines at a low purr as they completed their various chores around the base. Whenever they had a free moment, the gravel munchers would fetch Cabbie another cup of tea, a dose of painkillers, or try to find some other way to make their jump plane feel more comfortable.

While the hangover passed within 24 hours, it had opened a wide enough chink in Cabbie's armor that the C-119 was collapsed under the full impact of stress and exhaustion. Oddly enough as Cabbie got sicker, the rest of the base started to recover. Caring for the jump plane had helped the smokejumpers slowly crawl out of their funk. Windlifter seemed to enjoy the fact that he had a captive audience for some of his more creative stories, despite the fact that the audience was softly snoring through part of the tale. Even Maru and Blade managed to rib the old plane about needing to take better care of himself.

Gradually, the base life started to find its new rhythm, and three weeks after the crash the remaining members of the Piston Peaks Air Attack Team returned to the fire line.

The TMST's final report would arrive at the Air Attack Base in a thick manila envelope late November. Paging through it, Blade discovered that there weren't any surprises. The death of Marianas Mars had been determined to be an accident caused by a combination of equipment failure, pilot error, and just plain bad luck. Reading over the report once again, Blade realized that it was finally time for him to fully make peace with Mari's memory and he pulled an envelope of photographs from out of his desk and went to find his mechanic.

As he watched Maru reorganize the memorial in the mechanic's hanger, the Air Boss allowed his eyes sweep across faces of those who had been lost. Many of them of them were before his time, but that didn't stop Blade from feeling a spiritual connection to them. They did after all make the ultimate sacrifice to help protect Piston Peak, a place that Blade had grown to love from the bottom of his soul.

Still, the helicopter thought as he watched Maru finish up his work and salute the images in front of him, even one image on that wall was an image too many. The Air Boss knew that he couldn't change the past, but as Chief, he could affect the , Blade Ranger headed out into the snowy evening, he swore to himself that he would not have another picture go on that wall on his watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you have made it to the end of the story. Thanks again for everyone who has read, and especially for those who left a review. While you are at it, I am working on another story where Maru fixes things called 'Better than New'. If you have an idea for something you would like to see your favorite mechanic tinker with please let me know. 
> 
> On to story notes. As you probably gleaned reading this story, the Marianas Mars was a real plane that crashed during firefighting operations on June 23, 1961. While the exact causes of the accident are not known, a jammed water drop system was believed to be partial to blame. The Fire and Rescue writers specifically indicated that the aircraft on the Piston Peaks wall were based on real crashes and as only one of the Marsian waterbombers were lost while fighting fires the Marianas was pretty easy to identify. Anyway, once again, I hope that you enjoyed this story and that you will join me on future adventures. Until then, this is C130 signing off.


End file.
